


A Twist of Lemon, a Twist of the Knife

by Caprichoso



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caprichoso/pseuds/Caprichoso
Summary: It was a simple cocktail, just a seasonal drink with a twist of the taboo... but for Kurapika-- and by extension, Leorio-- it would leave far worse than a bitter aftertaste or a hangover.A vignette touching on Kurapika's PTSD.Includes a photo of the cocktail in question.





	A Twist of Lemon, a Twist of the Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: as it says on the label, this fic deals with PTSD and the unexpected ways it can manifest. There is also a photo of the cocktail posted after the fic itself. Proceed with caution.

The place was nice, or nice enough; nothing special, but it seemed to fancy itself part of the craft cocktail revival that was going around. Dim lighting, chintzy chandeliers, copper fixtures anywhere they could cram them, and a wall full of the most esoteric booze no one in their right mind would drink-- it was pretentious enough to set Leorio's teeth on edge. Supposedly, though, this restaurant had fantastic food and drinks, and that was enough to overlook some snobbery. He and Kurapika already had their favorite date-night spots, but it never hurt to add some variety and try something new.

There was a wait for a table, their server informed them with the pointed lack of contrition that said that the two of them were lucky not to be waiting for hours. There were, however, two spots at the bar if they happened to want a cocktail before their table was ready. With just a bit of effort, Leorio managed a smile as he and Kurapika strode over to the bar, where hopefully the drinks were stiff enough to put them at ease with the atmosphere.

To his credit, the bartender greeted them with a nod and a smile even as he strained and garnished a pair of drinks, then whisked them away to a couple suffering from an obvious case of first-date shyness. Within just a few seconds, he was dropping a pair of monogrammed napkins in front of them. "Gentlemen, welcome! You two have a chance to check out our menu yet?"

"Not just yet," Kurapika replied, eyeing the distinct lack of menus within arm's reach. "Could we get one?"

The bar's offerings turned out to be a mix of classics and a handful of original concoctions, some less appetizing than others, but a few seemed interesting enough. When the bartender made his next pass, they were ready for him.

"I'll try the Rusty Rivet," Leorio said. A nice Yalis whisky and a house allspice-and-herb-infused mead made for a new take on a Rusty Nail, and if they were using something as smooth and peaty as Raphoglia 10 Year, it was probably worth trying.

Kurapika held out the menu. "It says you offer seasonal cocktails? I'm interested in hearing about those."

The bartender's eyes lit up, and he leaned in with a practiced conspiratorial air. "Well, right now it's a rosemary-infused vodka with pear liqueur and raspberry shrub, which is quite good, but between us, I just perfected a spooky recipe that I'm planning on pitching to my boss as our seasonal cocktail for Halloween. It's a classic gin martini livened up with elderflower and a few other unique fruit touches. Would you like to be the first to try it?"

Without even looking, Leorio knew Kurapika was sold. He was a big fan of bitter and herbaceous flavors-- gin, hoppy beers, aperitifs, the works-- especially when balanced with the sweetness of fruit. At his nod of assent, the bartender snagged the menu from Kurapika's waiting hand and strode back to the well.

Now that the ordering was out of the way, Leorio let his eyes drift to Kurapika, who fixed him with that ever-coy gaze... that is, until something over Leorio's shoulder caught his eye, causing him to bite his lip and look down to avoid laughing.

"Hooboy," Leorio remarked, fighting the urge to peek. "Let me guess: important male author type is 'impressing' his date into a coma?"

A snort, and Kurapika covered his mouth. "From what I can tell by body language, yes. The poor girl looks like she'd already have downed her cocktail and ordered another two if she weren't worried about him possibly 'forgetting' his wallet."

Leorio shrugged. "Sounds about right. Well, I'm not feeling any nasty aura from that direction, so I think he's not malicious, just stupid. He'll probably go home alone and write about a protagonist cursed to only find shallow women who don't care about his beautiful ideas."

"Such a shame, really. If only someone would validate the poor, neglected genius manbaby." Kurapika was on the verge of continuing his verbal skewering, but the bartender's approach caught his attention.

"All right," he announced, setting Leorio's rocks glass full of smoky, honeyed goodness down in front of him, "One Rusty Rivet. And for you, what will soon be the cocktail everyone's talking about this Halloween." With that, he placed a lit LED coaster on the bar in front of Kurapika, set the ordinary-looking martini down on it, then rotated it at the stem to reveal a waking nightmare.

Blood-red eyes speared through by a cocktail pick stared at the two of them, oozing terror and betrayal. It took Leorio at least a few seconds to process the sight and spot the fake, which meant that Kurapika was...

"Gin, elderflower liqueur, lychee juice," the bartender announced, oblivious to the atrocity he had committed, "And the piece that really brings it together: a pair of bright red maraschino cherries stuffed inside lychees filled with raspberry jam, for that dripping bloody look. I call it the Kurta's Eyes."

No sooner had the last words left the man's mouth than a wave of vengeful aura slammed into him, physically hurling him backwards into the back counter. The glass next to Kurapika's hand shattered, sending its contents flooding out and over the bar, the offending eyes coming to rest several patrons down even .

"One hundred twenty-seven people. Tortured to death in ways you could never begin to imagine, butchered and left to rot. And you've reduced the entirety of their suffering to a trendy little cocktail." Kurapika's voice was low, but his aura carried it to everyone's ears. "You. Are. Filth."

Just as Leorio's fingers were about to brush Kurapika's sleeve, the torrent of Nen roaring around his boyfriend dissipated, leaving both of them gasping. "Pika," he managed.

Kurapika held up a hand, head bowed as he took a deep breath. When he looked up, his eyes were fixed directly on the bartender. "That is the last time you or anyone else will ever make that cocktail. Understood?"

The bartender could only nod in terror.

Sighing, Kurapika let his hand drop back down to his side, where it joined the other in balling into a fist. One heartbeat, two, and he turned on his heel and strode out of the restaurant, patrons and staff alike parting ahead of him.

Leorio restrained his instinct to go racing after Kurapika just long enough to reach into his jacket and retrieve his wallet. Pulling out a few large bills, he let them drop on the floor. "For the mess," he spat, then followed his boyfriend out into the street.

\----

Leorio was proud to know more about Kurapika's sleeping habits than most anyone else, not that he'd say so out loud. There were certain sources of personal pride that he gladly announced to the world, and certain things-- the really, truly important things that made his insides glow with the knowledge-- that were too special to share. Knowing the little quirks of how Kurapika slept, mundane as it might seem, fell firmly into the latter category.

It was for Leorio, and Leorio alone, to know that Kurapika preferred to wake him with gentle caresses and whispered words. Once, they had roused each other with names called loud, the nudge of a foot, but that was long ago. Before they had come to realize-- and later still, admit aloud-- the depth of their feelings for one another. Now, they woke each other with a tenderness they showed no one else, a gentle beckoning to wakefulness.

When Kurapika's insistent hands shook Leorio awake, desperate and urgent, Leorio knew instantly that something was wrong.

"...rio, please. Gotta go, they're here! Keep you safe." Those hands abandoned their shoving in favor of sliding under Leorio and dragging him bodily from where he lay. Rings dug into his back, cold as fear itself; they'd just been conjured and hadn't yet had a chance to draw warmth from Kurapika's body.

It was the cold that made Leorio's eyes snap open to a room bathed in red, a ragged gasp inflating his lungs even as he sent out an instinctive burst of _En_. Kurapika sensed danger, something powerful enough to utterly shatter his composure. They stood a better chance of surviving it if Leorio knew the source of that threat, or at least which direction to face against the incoming attack.

Leorio's  _En_ sailed outwards, illuminating every trace of life in its radius-- Kurapika, Leorio's neighbor across the hall, the family of five next door... and no one else. Not in their general vicinity, anyway. Gathering his strength, he shot a burst out as far as he could manage. Still nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it, Pika?" Leorio kept his voice low, cautious, even as _Ten_  floated around his body. The fact that he didn't sense anything was entirely overridden by his instinctive trust of Kurapika; if he said there was danger, there was danger.

"Spiders," Kurapika muttered, voice muddled with sleep but no less urgent for its lack of precision. "Gotta run, won' let 'em get you."

Leorio scrambled from the bed, taking up position beside his boyfriend, fists at the ready. Fighting naked and unarmed wasn't his preference, but like hell would he go down easy just because of that. "Where are they?"

Scarlet eyes blinked, blinked again, and confusion furrowed Kurapika's brow. "They... they're. I'm." Swallowing hard, he drew a shuddering breath, staggered backwards into the wall, and slid down to the ground to bury his face in his hands.

In an instant, Leorio was kneeling beside him. "Pika? What's wrong? Where are they?"

"A dream," Kurapika choked out, sickly red leaking from between his fingers. "It was all-- all just another  _fucking_  dream." Leorio had never heard him use that word in any context; it was jarring, sounded wrong coming from those lips.

Even as he allowed himself to relax with the knowledge that they were out of immediate danger, Leorio brought a hand up to rest against Kurapika's shoulder, thumb stroking gently across the skin.

"They carved out their eyes." Kurapika's voice was just barely over a whisper. "Melody's, Gon's, Killua's, all while I watched. They offered them to me, still dripping, mocking me. My loved ones' eyes, they said. That was what I wanted, what I swore I'd give anything to get, wasn't it? They kept asking me, and I... I couldn't say anything to make them stop, because they were right."

A fist tightened around Leorio's heart. "Shit, Pika, I--"

"Then you. They had you and they were about to cut into you and..." He trailed off into a cross between a whimper and a growl, throwing his hands down to his sides. "It was just a cocktail. Just one stupid cocktail from an imbecile who wanted to make an edgy drink. And  _this_  is what it does to me."

More than anything, Leorio wanted to wrap Kurapika up in his arms and shelter him from this pain, to tell him that it would be okay without the lie catching in his throat. None of that would work right now, not even holding him close; after a post-traumatic episode like this, Kurapika always had trouble breathing, and every bit of sensation over a certain threshold seemed to land on an exposed nerve. He needed space, and no more than one hand on him. And so Leorio knelt there, wishing he could say something more comforting than a chant of, "I've got you."

It wasn't enough; it never was. But for now, it would have to be. Maybe one day, Leorio would be able to say that everything would be all right, and they would both believe it.

 

* * *

 

 

_**The cocktail in question:** _

 

_**** _

**Author's Note:**

> Incidentally, all the cocktails mentioned here are of my own creation, though they take heavy inspiration from classics. The garnish is adapted from a similar one found online.  
> If you are of legal drinking age and interested in trying it, here is the recipe for the Kurta's Eyes:
> 
> 2 oz gin  
> 1/2 oz elderflower liqueur  
> 1/2 oz lychee juice (from can)  
> 2 canned whole lychees, intact  
> 2 (artificial) maraschino cherries  
> 2 small spoonfuls raspberry jam
> 
> Carefully fill the lychees with jam, then gently push the maraschino cherries into the same holes. Spear with a long cocktail pick.  
> Combine other ingredients with ice in a cocktail shaker, stir well until ice-cold, strain into a martini glass, garnish with eyes.


End file.
